“We have to tell Baron Carrick.”
“Adelaide, no.”
“What?” She looked into his eyes. “What do you mean, no?”
“It’s not worth it. I’m fine. Dresden has stitched me up plenty of times. He’ll make short work of my arm. Okay?”
She looked at the arrow embedded in his arm. How he was acting so unbothered, she didn’t know. She was about to ask if she should go find Dresden when he spoke.
“Adelaide.” Her pulse quickened. Her mind screamed an alarm at his odd tone. “I didn’t see a torch.”
Her breathing turned shaky. Blood drained from her face. Her hands felt clammy, so she pulled her hand free of his. “I...tossed it aside when it went out.” She looked toward where she had thrown her dagger. Why was she lying? Because she wasn’t used to telling the truth. Because her parents had been so afraid of the truth. I want to trust him. I should tell him...
Regulus gently pulled on her chin, turning her face back toward him. “I’ve seen something like that before. In Vanelt. A mage gifted in manipulating fire working for a circus.” There was no accusation in his voice. Just an observation. Only kindness, and a touch of sadness, showed in his eyes. The warmth in his tone calmed some of her panic.
“I...” She licked her lips, unsure how to proceed.
“It’s okay.” He cupped the side of her face in his large hand. “I won’t tell anyone. And you don’t have to talk about it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“My parents...” She swallowed. “They worry it’s dangerous. After...”
“After The Shadow.”
She nodded, her breathing normalizing. “You don’t...” She put her hand over his on her cheek. “You aren’t afraid? Or angry I didn’t tell you?”
“What? No!” Regulus scooted closer and grimaced. “You just saved me. How could I be afraid of you? And I can’t imagine what it’s like to be, possibly, the only mage in all Monparth. You must feel so alone.” His voice held sympathy. Like he knew the burden of carrying a secret.
“I wanted to tell you,” Adelaide whispered, “but I’m so used to hiding. My parents don’t want me to use my power at all. They’re afraid.” Her words rushed out, fed by relief at no longer hiding and the need to explain herself. “Afraid The Shadow will find me if I use my magic. Or that people might try to kill me before I could hurt them. Or that others would try to use me.”
He nodded. “I can see the wisdom in hiding a truth that dangerous.”
“I’m sorry—”
“No, don’t apologize.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Wait.” He looked around. “Are you out here all alone?”
She gestured vaguely behind her. “I left my maid back there when I heard shouting.”
“You heard shouting, so you ran toward it?”
“It sounded like someone needed help.”
Regulus chuckled. “Brave like a tigress indeed.”
She bit her lip. “Do you think Nolan or any of his friends noticed?”
“None of them seem particularly bright. I’m sure you’re fine.” He smiled. “But you might want to try not conjuring fire if you want to keep being a mage a secret.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Adelaide groaned. “It’s...sometimes difficult to control. Although I’m getting better.” Which means I can help. She straightened and scanned the shadows. “Hello? Anyone there?”
Regulus lowered his hand from her cheek. “What—”
“Shh.” She listened and watched the darkness. “Just checking. All right. I don’t think anyone is around.”
“Why—”
Adelaide held out her hand and summoned a ball of azure-tinged light. It hung in the air, illuminating Regulus’ wounds. “I can’t believe Nolan would attack you.” Literally. Her mind refused to believe what she had seen. As if there had to be another explanation. She clenched her teeth as she inspected the arrow buried in his upper arm. “Why would he do this?”
Regulus gazed at the orb, lips parted. “To send a message. To humiliate me. To prevent me from competing tomorrow. Take your pick.”
She gently parted his hair and found the cut on his head. It wasn’t as bad as expected. “You’ll compete tomorrow,” she declared. “And you’ll knock Nolan Carrick off his horse.” She held her hand over the cut. Warmth spread across her glowing palm as the blue light made the blood look purplish.
“What are you... Oh.” He relaxed, and she focused on the cut until it closed.
“That felt like...” Regulus blinked a few times. “Comforting. It eased the pain and then... The pain just left. I felt nothing.” He touched his head. “There’s not even a scar?” His voice held wonder.
“I can do more.” Adelaide blushed. “Or I’m trying, anyway. I’m teaching myself.”
“I thought you said your parents didn’t want you using your powers?”
“They don’t know.” She wrapped her hand around the protruding shaft of the arrow. “I’m sorry.” She met his eyes. “This will hurt, but only for a second.”
He nodded. “Nothing I haven’t felt before.”
Adelaide ripped the arrow out of Regulus’ arm. He groaned through clenched teeth as blood poured from the gaping hole. His muscles bulged against the sleeve. She held her hand over the wound, energy coursing through her arm and out of her hand as light shimmered from her palm. Regulus relaxed. The wound pulled together and closed. She lowered her hand and let the sphere of light go out before anyone could wander by.
“Is there pain anywhere else?”
He shook his head. “They weren’t able to do much before you scared them off.”
“Are you sure?” It felt good to use her powers. To help someone, like she had wanted to do for so long. And nothing terrible has happened.
“I’m sure.” His gaze held hers, his gray irises silvery in the moonlight.
She smiled sheepishly. “You don’t mind?”
“Mind? I think it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.” He brushed a curl of hair behind her ear. “Mage or not.”
Her heart danced. Kiss me, damn you.
“Thank you.” Regulus’ voice lowered, becoming husky. He leaned forward. “You’re spectacular. Breathtaking. Adelaide... I...” He trailed off as his fingers tangled in her hair.
Adelaide couldn’t stand the tension anymore. She closed the space between them and kissed him. As her mouth met his, her breath seemed stolen away. Her eyes closed; her mind emptied. She started to pull away, afraid she’d been too forward, or done it wrong. But Regulus grabbed her waist and kissed her. She sank into him, breathed him in as she wrapped her arms around his neck. A spark of reckless joy ignited in her chest and she trembled. He gripped her waist firmer, pulled her closer against his muscled chest. Slowly, his mouth left hers, his quick breaths hot on her lips. She opened her eyes.
It took her a couple tries to speak. “I should go. Before Giselle panics.” And before I forget which way is back. She stood.
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her back down. Her breathing hitched as he leaned forward. Regulus kissed her again, and Adelaide felt weightless and invincible all at once. He pulled away too soon, and she sighed. He chuckled.
Adelaide’s eyes flew open. “What?”
“It’s just...” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “You’ve bested me. You’ve won my heart.” He looked into her eyes with gentle longing, bordering on adoration. Like she was the only thing that mattered, the only person he ever wanted to look at. It was so close to the way Father looked at Mother, Adelaide’s throat caught.
She touched his face, her fingers caressing his scar. She didn’t need to think anymore. Her heart had taken over. She kissed his lips, then his scar. His hand released hers and pressed against her lower back as he kissed her, pulling her close while his other hand buried in her hair.
“Adelaide? Oh, thank Et—Hargreaves!”
She jumped at Gaius’ uncharacteristically enraged voice and broke away from Regulu
s’ kiss. Regulus’ hands tightened on her as his eyes snapped open, alert and battle-ready.
Adelaide looked back and saw Gaius and two of his knights running toward them, swords drawn. Shuddering light from a torch one of the knights carried spilled over her and Regulus as the men slowed. Regulus released her.
“Gaius?” She flushed as Gaius grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.
“Are you hurt?” He held her hand up in the torchlight. “You’re bleeding!”
“No, I’m fine—”
Gaius turned and pointed his sword at Regulus, still holding her arm. “I might just run you through if you don’t have a good explain, Lord—wait, are you bleeding, too?”
“Gaius!” She yanked her arm free. “I’m fine, it’s Regulus’ blood!”
Regulus touched the blood on the side of his face. “It’s only a scratch.”
“And your arm, too.” Gaius lowered his sword, the anger on his face softening. “What happened?”
“Nolan Carrick and his friends attacked him.” Adelaide’s anger returned full force.
“It was just some ruffians. Probably had too much to drink,” Regulus said, holding up a hand. “I didn’t see any of their faces. And I’m fine. A couple minor scratches.”
She clenched her jaw. Nolan shouldn’t get away with it simply because his father was a baron. Anger stirred her magic, but she forced it down.
“I see.” Gaius sheathed his sword and rounded on Adelaide. “So you’re not hurt?” He looked her up and down.
“I’m fine, Gaius.”
“Actually,” Regulus stood, “she saved me. Threw a torch at the miscreants and threatened to put a throwing knife through their skulls. Speaking of,” he bent down and picked up her dropped throwing knife, the light from the torch glinting on the blade. “This is yours.”
“What are you doing here?” Adelaide asked Gaius as she returned the knife to her boot.
“Giselle came and got me. She said you went running off toward what sounded like shouting and ordered her to stay behind, but she was worried for your safety. Min’s in a panic.” He looked at Regulus, lips pursed. “And then when we arrived there was only you two, alone, in the dark, on the ground, a bit...tangled...” Adelaide’s face heated.
Regulus inclined his head. “I understand your concern. But I assure you, I would never hurt Adelaide. Or intentionally impugn her honor.”
“And I can take care of myself, Gaius.”
“Clearly. But even champions can be taken by surprise.” He gestured to Regulus. “You’re Minerva’s sister, so you’re my sister, too. That is both a privilege and a duty, and one that I take as seriously as protecting my wife.”
He was right, and just being kind. Even if his protectiveness grated on her nerves. “Thank you.” Adelaide smiled. “Minerva is lucky to have you.”
Gaius grinned. “I assure you it’s the other way around, but I try.” His smile vanished. “As for all...this. I think it would be best if all parties returned to their own tents immediately.”
“Yes, of course.” She looked at Regulus. “I’ll find you before the joust tomorrow?”
“I’ll be looking for you.”
Adelaide walked over to the knight with the torch. “Could I borrow that? I dropped something.” He handed her the torch, and she scanned the ground for her dagger. After a moment, she found it. It looked normal and was cool in her hand. She slid it into her boot and handed back the torch. “Shall we?”
Chapter 28
BLOOD TURNED THE WATER in the bowl pink as Regulus wrung out the cloth. He turned back toward Dresden.
“I mean, I thought about telling her.” Regulus scrubbed at the blood on his ear, looking at his reflection in the small square mirror propped against the side of the tent, its bottom edge resting on his cot. “But then she kissed me...” He sighed, remembering the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressed against his. Nothing in his life had ever felt as right as holding Adelaide, kissing her. “It didn’t seem like the right time.”
“How is that not the right time?” Dresden threw out his hands in annoyance. “You were sharing secrets!”
“And what was I supposed to say?” Regulus plunged the rag back into the bowl of water. “‘Oh, you’re a mage? I owe a life-debt to a sorcerer. You know, the corrupted, evil version of you? He completely owns me and runs my life and people I care about will die if I don’t do his bidding.’ In what world is that a good response to being healed or kissed by a beautiful woman?”
“That’s...okay, that’s a valid point. But this could be good. You said it yourself. The sorcerer is a corrupted mage. Maybe a mage can undo what a sorcerer did.”
Regulus rubbed the wet rag through his hair. “I wondered the same thing, that’s the only reason I told you. I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone she’s a mage.” He smiled wryly. “But I know you can keep a secret.”
“I suppose I am something of an expert.” Dresden stroked his beard.
“But not even the others. No one.”
“I get it. But...you don’t look like you took a beating. Won’t Carrick notice?”
Regulus tossed the cloth back into the bowl. “I’ll be wearing armor. It was dark, so not as if he could have seen my injuries to even know what to look for.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it on the ground. “Well, that’s a perfectly good shirt ruined.”
Dresden crossed his arms and leaned back on the stool, using a tent pole as a backrest. “Don’t go too easy on Carrick tomorrow. The world would probably be better off if his neck snapped when he gets knocked off his horse.”
“I’m not a murderer.” He wiped dried blood off his arm. “Besides, we might not even face each other.”
“If he’s as good with a lance as he is with a polearm and a sword, you probably will.”
“I don’t think it’s about the tournament for him.” Regulus pulled on a linen undershirt. “It’s about Adelaide. He thinks he can win her over if he defeats me. He’s fixated. Maybe I should let him win. If he wins and realizes Adelaide still doesn’t want him, maybe he’ll find a new obsession.”
Dresden frowned. “Didn’t you say she told you to beat him? To ‘throw him off his horse?’”
“She was angry.”
“And you’re not?”
“Of course I’m angry!” Regulus sat on his cot. “But it drew Adelaide and I closer together, so it worked out. Carrick is just a spoiled noble brat. I’ve dealt with his ilk all my life.”
“Sure, but the last time someone tried to murder you, we became mercenaries.”
“That was different. And he didn’t try to murder me.” Regulus kicked off his boots. “I probably should let him win. But you know as well as I do, I can’t. It’s not who I am.”
“Thank Etiros.” Dresden stood and stretched. “I was worried falling in love had addled your brain.” He exited the tent.
Regulus laid back. Yes, he had a growing hatred for Carrick. But right now, all he could think about was Adelaide. How beautiful and brave and kind she was. Her kiss. Why dwell on hate when he had so much to love?
Chapter 29
“PARDON ME.” ADELAIDE darted between a page leading an enormous gray destrier and a knight decked in full heavy jousting armor. Dresden waved to her across the chaos of knights, attendants, and horses. A squire ran past with a panicked expression, his shouted “sorry, my lady!” muffled in the rattle of armor and stomp of hooves. A white horse lowered its head, and she spotted the back of Regulus’ head, his black locks curling near his neck. She dodged the end of a lance as a page walked by.
Regulus turned as she approached, his face wrinkling into a wide smile. “Good morning, Adelaide.”
“Good morning.” She held out a strip of dark green cloth that matched her sleeveless dress. The sleeveless style wasn’t fashionable, but her skin welcomed the warm sunlight and the cooling gentle breeze. Honestly, as pale as some of these Monparthian women were, they could stand to ditch sleeves on occasion.
&nb
sp; Regulus took the cloth, letting his fingers slip over her hand and down to the fabric. “You look beautiful.”
Adelaide took in his armor, bulkier and thicker than yesterday’s sword-fighting armor. “You look handsome and heroic.”
His face contorted in a grimace but returned to a pleased smile before she could even blink. “I’ll look for you in the stands.”
“You better. Try not to break anything other than your lance.”
“Here I thought the lady visited her knight before a joust to wish him luck.”
“Please.” She smirked. “I have a feeling you don’t need luck.”
“A little extra luck never hurt anyone,” he said with a shrug, his tone teasing.
Her heart fluttered. “All right.” She reached up and grabbed the back of Regulus’ neck, pulling his head down to hers. Her fingers wove through his hair as they kissed. She stepped back, her heart beating fast, her emotions a whirlwind of light and song and beautiful, perfect things. Her fingers slipped off his neck. He opened his eyes, a dazed look on his face. She bit back a chuckle. “Good luck.”
“I think you broke him.” Dresden held a fist over his mouth. From the twinkling in his eyes, he appeared to be trying not to laugh.
Regulus blinked. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“The only thing I have to do is tell you to get to the lists before you’re late.”
“I thought that was my job.” A thin young man walked closer. He had a mess of dark blond hair and a short, patchy beard. He held a helm in one hand and clutched the reins of one of the tallest destriers Adelaide had ever seen in the other. The muscles across the black stallion’s broad chest rippled as he stomped his foreleg.
Adelaide gasped in admiration. “Is this your horse?”
“This is Sieger.” Regulus moved to the horse’s shoulder and patted its thick neck. He pointed to the youth. “And that’s my squire, Harold.”
Adelaide held her palm out to Sieger. “He’s gorgeous!” Sieger rubbed her hand with his soft muzzle.
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